READING ROOM
by jenthegypsy
Summary: I was just fixin' to start readin' cereal boxes and repair manuals when this baby popped up on the screen. A very revealing conversation between Sawyer and Jack.


Title: READING ROOM

Author: jenthegypsy  
Rating: PG-13 (language)  
Characters: Sawyer, Jack (Kate, in passing)  
Genre: Humor

* * *

_**READING ROOM**_  
  


"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Shit! What the hell do you think _you're _doing, Jackass? Tryin' to give me a heart attack so you can save me again?"

"I'm done saving you, Sawyer. If you die, you die. I'm pretty sure that would piss you off more than me saving you anyway.Now answer the question."

"What question was that?"

"What the fuck are you doing with that computer? What's that on the monitor?"

"You know, technically, that's two questions. Good thing I'm not one to split hairs."

"Swear to God, Sawyer…."

"Relax, Dr. Strangelove, it's just a little reading material I stumbled across. I ain't swaying the forces of the universe by messin' with your precious button."

"There's an entire library out there, you freak. Twain, Melville, Tolstoy…"

"Don't forget Tolkien and Stephen King. Wanna talk about a freak? Neither one of that guy's oars is in the water. Besides, I've read 'emall."

"You've read every book out there."

"What can I tell ya, Teach? Since the Revolution, I've had a lot of free time on my hands. Been puttin' it to good use. Thought I'd do you proud. I was getting' ready to start readin' cereal boxes and repair manuals when this baby popped up on the screen."

"Cut the crap, Sawyer. I'm asking you for the last time, what _is _that, and where the hell did it come from?"

"That's just it, Doc. I don't _know _where it came from. It was just here one night. And every night there's more of it. The more I read, the more there is. And Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"It's about us."

"Us? _Us _who?

"All of us, here on the island. 'Bout our time here, and before we got here, and after we get away from here."

"We get away from here? Rescued?"

"That's what they're sayin'. Best not to think too hard on it, though, or your head's likely to explode. Hell, I didn't sleep for two days, tryin' to make sense of it. Finally gave that up. Now I just read it. And, boy howdy, let me tell ya…it's good shit, brother."

"So…it's a book? About all of us. Sawyer, that's not possib…."

"Hold it right there, Einstein. There's veins starting to stand out in your neck already. And no, it's not a book. Seems to be stories written by a few different people and man, it's like they're right here with us every minute of every day. And then some."

"The Others?"

"Don't think so."

"How come it appears to you and no one else? I've been down here since the beginning, why didn't it show up when _I_ was waiting for the goddamned hundred and eight minutes to pass?"

"Easy there, Hoss, now you've got the veins in your head plumpin' up! Just another of the Island mysteries, I guess, how it came to the _literary connoisseur_ among us, I mean."

"Fuck you."

"Real eloquent, Shakespeare. Wanna know what they write about?"

"No."

"Some of 'em write about you and Freckles…."

"Me and Kate? But we…."

"And some of 'em write about _me _and Freckles…."

"Now there's a laugh."

"And _some _of 'em write about you and me and Freckles."

"Bullshit! Now I know you're lying."

"Hand to God, Doc. Wanna know what they write about most?"

"Could I stop you if I tried?"

"You and me."

"Get the fuck out of here."

"No shit. Check this out. It's the newest one, just showed up tonight."

"Sawyer, this is about that time you wanted me to hack off your hair."

"I know that, Jack."

"But this is _exactly_ how it happened."

"That's what I'm sayin'. It's stuff no one could possibly know. But don't stop now, you're just getting' to the good part."

"That kiss…."

"Jack? You OK? You've got that whole eyes blinkin', mouth twitchin' thing going on. Scares me when you do that. Jack? Take a deep breath and have a seat here. Easy. There you go. Better now?"

"How could anyone have known about that? I can't believe this. It's like someone is out there, writing our lives for us. And maybe if they didn't write it, we wouldn't live it. You know what I mean?"

"Don't have to worry about that, compadre. They love us. They'll write about us – all of us – forever."

"Sawyer?"

"Yeah?"

"You said there are stories about _us _after the Island?"

"Yeah."

"Do we…are we OK in them?"

"We're better than OK in some of 'em."

"Would you read one to me?"

"You bet, Doc. You bet."


End file.
